


I Don't Feel Well

by evanderblake



Series: Egobang [9]
Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Anxiety, Depression, Egobang - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Polygrumps, ShipGrumps, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal actions, gets better I promise, harmful behaviors, super sad, trigger warning, vent fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 17:05:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15151703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evanderblake/pseuds/evanderblake
Summary: Dan has been losing this battle for a while, but Arin comes to the rescue.





	I Don't Feel Well

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after narrowly escaping my own demise. 
> 
> If you're reading this and you're feeling helpless, know that there are good things in store for you, and that people love you and want to help you. 
> 
> Please be careful while reading this.
> 
> Find me on tumblr: @friendevan

He couldn’t bear to look in the mirror.

Or look at his phone.

Or even open his eyes, for that matter.

Everything hurt. Everything. It was like a stabbing pain that traveled through his veins. It started at the top of his head, a throbbing, intense headache that wouldn’t quit. It moved down through his sinuses; he had been crying, of course, so breathing was painful enough. Down to his throat, which was raw from crying, sobbing, shouting, screaming. It bloomed in his chest – that’s where most of the pain was. It wasn’t sharp like the rest of the pain. No, this was a dull ache, like a cavity, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. It pulsated with each breath, felt like his skin would tear from the tension, and maybe he hoped it would. That something, one pain or another, would kill him.

Yeah, he wanted that. _Desperately._

He’d woken up early, just after sunrise, and had started pacing the house. He’d never felt this way before. It’d never been this bad. First, he walked into the bathroom, staring in to the medicine cabinet, counting the different pills he could take that would just… end it all. Hesitantly, he closed it, instead turning to the bathtub. He could fill it, lie face-down. He could fall asleep.

He left the bathroom and walked to his kitchen. There were more options there. The knife block – he could do it the old-fashioned way, sure, but that would hurt more than the pain he felt now. The oven, he could throw something flammable in there, burn the whole house down. No evidence. It wouldn’t have been his fault. Dan would have never intentionally done that. After all, he wasn’t a very good cook anyways. He could stick a fork in the toaster, crush himself with the refrigerator, starve himself, dehydrate… the options were endless.

He dropped to his knees, onto the too-cold tile floor, falling onto his side and curling up into a ball, weeping helplessly for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. He felt so confused, afraid. He couldn’t understand why he felt like this, what was happening. He wasn’t sad, or angry… he was numb. He couldn’t feel anything. And that scared him. It scared him that he could look at the pills or the bathtub or the knifes and not feel… the fear of death, or the willingness to live.

He pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the photos, gazing at the pictures of his friends, his family, the places he’d been, the things he’d seen… he felt nothing. No attachment to any of it. No sentiment, no connections, just… nothing. And the worst part was that no one knew. No one had a clue how he felt, that he was even struggling to begin with. He’d brush everything off and say how tired he was, and god, everyone believed it immediately. It was true that he hadn’t been sleeping, but work and traveling had little to do with that.

He found Arin’s number and slowly typed on the device in his trembling hands.

_[SEXY KITTEN]: 6:34 AM_

_I don’t feel well_

And he waited. He didn’t expect an answer anytime soon, knowing how late Arin slept (even if he claimed to be waking up earlier that usual). He pulled himself off the kitchen floor and into the living room, closing all the curtains and turning off all the lights. Collapsing onto the couch, he let out a shaky sigh, curling up once more, this time under a mound of blankets. Maybe it would help – self-help blogs always mentioned getting comfortable and cozy. He let the warmth of the blankets consume him, hoping it would warm him up inside more-so than outside.

His phone buzzed.

_[BIG CAT]: 6:49 AM_

_Do you need me to come over and take care of you? What’s wrong?_

Dan sighed again, heavier. What would he even say to Arin? That he was sad? That he had a headache? He couldn’t… he couldn’t tell him everything that he was feeling. It would scare him. Arin already had his own problems to deal with. Dan didn’t have to be one of them.

_[SEXY KITTEN]: 6:53 AM_

_I don’t know what’s wrong. Something doesn’t feel right._

He was glad Arin wasn’t there to see him lie through his teeth.

The response was immediate.

_[BIG CAT]: 6:53 AM_

_I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t move a muscle._

Fuck.

He was terrified. Even if he wanted to get up and lock the doors, to shut Arin out and be alone, he couldn’t. It felt like his body was shutting down, every nerve was live-wired but his body wouldn’t allow him to move. He was shaking like a fucking leaf, tears began to stream down his cheeks, his lip trembling as he held in a sob.

He didn’t want Arin to see him like this. He didn’t want anyone to know.

Why did he even send a text in the first place? How could he be so stupid about this?

Why didn’t he want help? Isn’t that what people usually want when they want to die? They want help?

He just wanted to be alone. He didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want Arin’s help.

He almost didn’t hear Arin open the door. He was so… lost. He didn’t comprehend anything until Arin was inches from his face, speaking to him, repeating his name over and over, but Dan couldn’t move his lips. Couldn’t formulate any sort of response.

“Dan, what’s going on? What’s wrong?” Arin asked as Dan’s hearing finally started working again. Dan gazed up into his eyes, those beautiful brown eyes so filled with worry and desperation, it made his heart break.

“I don’t know how to tell you what’s wrong…” he started, scooting back on the couch to sit upright, making room for Arin. “I want to tell you everything, dude. But I’m so fucking scared that you’re just gonna… I don’t know, run away. Or call someone else to deal with me.”

Arin moved onto the couch next to Dan, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing him tightly. By his expression, Dan could tell he was thoroughly confused. “Are you, like… dying? You got some life-threatening illness or some shit?” he laughed a bit at the end, hoping to god that it was a joke. It was all just a joke.

Dan looked straight ahead at the floor and smiled with a distant look in his eyes, the tear stains on his cheeks glistening in the low light. “It certainly feels that way…”

Arin frowned, grabbing one of Dan’s hands and weaving their fingers together. “I don’t think I’m following very well. What’s going on, baby?” He lightly kissed the top of his hand, which made Dan turn to look at him.

He opened his mouth to speak, to unload everything he’d been feeling, to confess how much he truly wanted everything to end, for all the pain to go away, that the only solution he could see to fix how much everything hurt was to just take his life. That had to be the only way. Everything else seemed so hard, so impossible.

Instead, he started to cry.

And he cried for a long time. Arin hugged him tightly, he brushed his finger’s through Dan’s unkempt hair, he kissed his forehead and his cheeks and his lips, he rubbed his back and his shoulders, he tried so hard to make everything better, but it only seemed to make everything worse.

“Please talk to me,” Arin murmured against Dan’s forehead, clutching the broken man to his body, trying to piece him back together. “What hurts, baby? What can I do to help you?”

Dan looked back at Arin again, the tears still flowing from his eyes but the sobs coming to a halt.

God, he had beautiful eyes. He would miss them.

He would miss Arin.

“I want to die,” Dan whispered.

And then there was a lengthy moment of silence. Arin didn’t get up and leave. He didn’t laugh it off. He didn’t call the police. He didn’t call Dan a liar. He simply hugged him.

“Have you talked to anyone about this?” Arin finally asked.

“No.”

“Can you talk to me about this? And then maybe we can get you some help?”

“…Yes.”


End file.
